


Memories

by Missy



Category: Burn Notice
Genre: Arms trading, Backstory, Character Study, Gen, Girls with Guns, Gun Kink, Guns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-04
Updated: 2016-07-04
Packaged: 2018-07-20 01:45:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7385935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy/pseuds/Missy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three important guns in Fiona's life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Memories

**Author's Note:**

  * For [merryghoul](https://archiveofourown.org/users/merryghoul/gifts).



Her red-tipped nails patted the pistol she’d just received from her supplier.

Fiona had been waiting for a week to have the thing in her hand and now, finally, it was here. She played with the sights like a lover’s lips, stroked the trigger like a turgid nipple.

It was beautiful, potentially destructive and frighteningly perfect. Not quite as worthy of her time and money as the shoes that sat in the bottom of her closet (she saw that divot in the casing and yes, she would let Eddie have it for thinking he could slide that by her) but sharply brilliant in its own way.

Just as flawed and imperfect and darkly dangerous as Fiona herself, though she herself wasn’t apt to brag about it.

****

She remembered the first weapon well. It was a Colt, a .45, and she’d bought it on a streetcorner at sixteen. The serial number had been filed off, so it ended up being her first stolen piece. She’d climbed fences with that thing, righted wrongs, led meetings – held men up. It was her baby, and she called it Tara, nicknaming it fondly like a lover. 

She lost the damn thing sometime around her first meeting with Michael. Right then and there she should have known the whole damn situation was cursed, but Fiona was headstrong. She found a better gun to fill her palm.

&&&&

The second was a gift from Michael, a Luger with precision sites and a beautiful finish. She loved whipping it out to impress the boys. Especially adored scaring border patrols by making them piss their pants with its tiny, perfectly sculpted for violence opulence.

She kept that gun on her at every step of their growing relationship, until he’d abandoned her in Ireland.

She sold it to a pawn shop for fifty quid and didn’t look back.

&&&&

The first gun she traded belonged to a Libyan with ties to a drug lord. She owed him forty thousand in arms and he owed her another ten k in back payments. They negotiated down the deal to something simpler; eight k in money and this gun, which had been in his family for generations.

It felt heavy and important in her palm; thicker and blockier than her preferred weapon. She used it often as an intimidation tactic; it made her look strong, powerful and unafraid to rain death on her enemies. Men had a way of ignoring her natural power unless she used maximum force. Pity they often pushed her to do so.

It stayed with her through meetings and fancy dinners, balls and meetings in icy abandoned basements. 

She had to sell it when the hospital called, when she moved to America to keep an eye on him. Pity. She’d grown to love the chunky little beast.

&&&

Fiona smirked as she tucked the gun away at her waistband. Guns were a secondary love of hers, but she did love her weapons.

Not nearly as much as her explosives, but then again C4 would never be supplanted in her big, beating heart.


End file.
